Unrequited Feelings Hurt
by PartiPooper
Summary: Butters has a crush. Too bad his crush likes someone else. But perhaps it's not all bad... (One-Sided Carterrs One-Shot; Rated T for profanities.)


Unrequited feelings hurt. Butters knew that much far too well.

When Dougie asked him over lunch whether he was okay, looking anxious about the way he was twirling his milk straw, Butters wasn't. However, all he could say was, listlessly, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Dougie asked, pushing his round, thick, black-rimmed spectacles up higher on his freckled nose so as to get a better look at Butters' frown, "You don't look that fine."

"It's nothin'." Butters sighed, "Jus' a long day." A painfully long day of suffering seeing the person he harboured unrequited feelings for harbour requited feelings for someone else. Butters had tried to change that.

He had taken care of his outward appearance, carefully colour-coordinating his outfits, spending ages styling his hair in the mirror only to end up with the same style as usual, making sure to wash well every morning before school and every night before bed. His friends had called him cute. His bullies had called him prissy. His crush hadn't noticed.

He had been extra-specially nice, saying hello and goodbye to his crush without fail every day, complimenting his appearance, offering to carry his books, allowing him to copy his homework. His friends had called him cute. His bullies had called him a creep. His crush hadn't noticed.

He had attempted to extend bonding time between them, sitting next to his crush at any opportunity like the bus and classroom and cafeteria, asking him round to his house, inviting him to go out places together. His friends had called him cute. His bullies had called him a fag. His crush hadn't noticed.

It was all so painful. Nothing was as painful though as the sight that appeared then, as it did every single lunch time without fail: the sight of Kyle Broflovski walking into the cafeteria, looking distressed as his steps were hounded and his arm was tugged by Butters' crush, Eric Cartman. It hurt to see it – filled him with a boiling, seething rage that made him squeeze his milk carton; hit him with a numbing, crippling sadness that made him let go of the carton again – but something made Butters unable to look away.

He felt sick as he watched the pair pick up a tray – just one, to share – and join the lunch line. He felt excruciating as he saw Eric wind his arm around Kyle's neck and pull him in close, and Kyle let him. He felt like crying as he observed them picking and choosing their meal, with Kyle slapping Eric's hand when he tried to reach for anything too unhealthy and Eric muttering irately but obeying regardless. He wanted to get up and leave when the two of them approached his table with their tray of food to share, but thought better of it. His own tray was still full, so it would have been suspicious behaviour to finish up his lunch early. Also, he had to be nice to his crush.

Butters was sure that suffering a ninja-star in the eye wasn't as painful as having to force a smile onto his face when Eric and Kyle reached the table. "Hey, Eric!" he greeted as cheerily as he could muster, which was _very_ cheerily since he was so skilled at pretending he was okay by that point, "Hey, Kyle!"

"Hey, Butters." Kyle smiled, making Butters hate him more. He hated Kyle for being so nice to him when deep down inside Butters was housing a powerful jealousy over him. It only made him feel guilty, like his anger was unjustified.

"Yo." Eric said nonchalantly, not even looking up at him in a way that stung more than it should have. His focus was on his food, as one hand picked up a pizza slice, and Kyle, as the other hand laid to rest at the redhead's waist.

"How are ya, fellas?" Butters asked them, though he looked at Eric as he did. Eric, who didn't look up from his tray – who, as usual, didn't notice.

"Fine, I suppose." Kyle replied as he speared a tater tot, "Just not looking forward to being in English with this asshole." He pointed his tater tot toting fork in Eric's direction, and Butters wanted to smack it out of his hand. If he was Eric's boyfriend he would have been delighted to spend English with him! The fact that Kyle wasn't grateful for what he had riled him up.

Eric only grinned, like Kyle was amusing instead of affronting. "Don't lie, Kyle. I know that's hard for a Jew like you to do, but try. Everybody knows that you love being with me."

"And people say that you have an ego. What _are_ they talking about?" Kyle sighed sarcastically before shoving his tater tot into his mouth. Butters wanted to shove his fist in along with it. He felt shameful for wanting to straight away though, so nervously ducked his attention to his lunch tray like Eric was doing. Most of the food on his plate was untouched – had just been pushed around a bit by his fork. If his father knew he was playing with his food then he would ground him for sure.

"Fuck you. I'm great and you know it. Isn't that right, Butters?"

"Huh?" Butters jolted into looking up, to see Eric paying attention to him for once, noticing him. His eyes were beautiful. So much so, that Butters wished that Eric looked at him more often. However, he snapped out of his reverie when he noticed the expectant way everybody was turned to him. "Oh, uh…" he stumbled, trying to remember how words happened, "Y-yeah…you are…" He looked down after he had finished his admission, to hide the way his cheeks pinked.

Kyle scoffed. "That doesn't prove anything. Butters always agrees with everything you say, Cartman." Hearing that, Butters grew angry and furrowed his brow, glaring at a fry on his plate.

"Better than _never_ agreeing with anything he says like _you_ do." he muttered scornfully. He stabbed the fry, imagining he was impaling Kyle. So busy was he with that, that at first he didn't notice the sudden descent of silence around the table – nobody talking, no cutlery scraping against crockery. He only became aware of it when it was broken by Kyle.

"What?" he asked, sounding surprised. Butters' head snapped up, and he saw that Kyle looked as surprised as he had sounded, as did Eric.

"Oh, uh," he flailed around for an excuse, but couldn't find one under the pressure of all attentions being on him. He wished they wouldn't. Even Eric's attention, which he usually craved, went unwanted. "N-nothin'…" He stood up quickly from the table, all eyes following him as he picked up his tray and stepped away. "I'm gonna go. I'm not hungry."

"Well…okay..." Kyle said slowly, still seeming a little befuddled, "See you later, Butters."

"Yeah." Butters replied half-heartedly. He glanced to Eric, in the hopes that he would say goodbye to him too. He didn't. For once, Butters didn't either. Dejectedly, he walked away with his tray, threw away its contents and placed it on a collecting rack, and left the cafeteria without looking back.

He wound his way through the hallways with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped, and his head ducked so that his chin met his chest. He passed classrooms and closets and lockers and offices, walking on through the crowds of students chatting cheerily, feeling none of their happiness.

Eventually, without even having thought about it, he somehow ended up at a back door of the school, a heavy fire-exit. In a moment of rebellion spurred by hopelessness, he pushed it open even though there was not a fire and exited through it, where he was startled into stopping as he found himself amongst a group of Goths, sitting on the steps smoking and staring at him boredly as they listened to Alice Cooper.

"Oh," he said, slightly embarrassed that he had just left a set of eyes to be met with another different set of eyes, "Sorry, I didn'…"

"Who the fuck are you?" Henrietta asked.

"Yeah, you can't be here." Pete said, flipping his fringe, "This is a Goth-only zone. And you," He looked Butters over, from his pink fleece with rolled-up sleeves and light-blue t-shirt underneath, past his blue cropped jeans with a little charm of Hello Kitty's head tied to one of the belt loops, down to his pink canvas sneakers with white ankle socks. "Are not Goth."

"He's so adorable it's hurting my eyes." Firkle frowned, squinting and leaning away from him slightly as though he was blinding.

"I'm sorry," Butters said, "I didn't mean to intrude. I'll jus'…be goin'…"

"Wait." Michael said, tilting his head at Butters, "Aren't you that kid who got his heart broken by some chick from Raisins back in elementary school?"

"Oh, yeah!" Henrietta piped up, recognising him too, "She stepped on your heart with stiletto heels and you said some happy-pappy, life-loving shit about it. What was it again?"

Pete blew out cigarette smoke as he answered, "Something about sadness making him happy or whatever, and that he could only be sad because he'd been happy before, or some shit like that." Butters went wide-eyed and gaped as he remembered too, delving into his memories.

"_I love life." he said as he sat on the soaking curb._

"_Huh?" Stan said, almost unrecognisable to Butters all dressed in black, "But you just got dumped."_

"_Well, yeah, and I'm sad. But at the same time I'm really happy that somethin' could make me feel that sad. It's like, i-i-i-it makes me feel alive, you know? It makes me feel human. And the only way I could feel this sad now is if I felt somethin' really good before. So I have to take the bad with the good. So I guess what I'm feelin' is…like a…beautiful sadness." Nervously he rubbed his knuckles together. "I guess that sounds stupid."_

"Still sounds as stupid as the first time I heard it." Firkle said. Butters couldn't agree less. In fact, Stan had been right all those years ago: it didn't sound stupid at all. Sometimes he suffered bad and sad times, but there would always be a rainbow after the storm, a light at the end of the tunnel, hope at the bottom of the box. And he would be able to see the good in life again, if he was strong and fought through the bad and sad times he was having. Feelings could be fleeting, and Butters could get over his.

"Gee, I've been actin' so silly." he admitted with a light chuckle, making the Goths look at him funny, "But, like I said, I gotta take the bad with the good. I gotta get over it. He likes Kyle, not me, and that's jus' life. A-and if he misses out on me, then that's his problem, not mine. I'll find someone better, right?" He looked up to beam a renewed smile at the Goth kids, all of whom frowned back at him.

"Uh…sure, life-lover." Henrietta replied.

"Yeah, whatever you say." Pete shrugged.

"Just get that pink out of my eyes." Firkle grimaced, looking in pain at his clothes.

"Sure thing, fellas!" Butters made to go back into school through the fire door, but stopped to wave them farewell before he shut the door on them. "Bye, guys! And thanks! You really cheered me up!" With that, he left through the door and closed it after him, and the Goths were left to look confusedly between each other.

"…Cheered him up?..." Michael said after a pause, "The fuck? We're Goths!" He took a disdainful drag on his cigarette, and Henrietta, Pete and Firkle looked back to the fire door where Butters had been, and where he wasn't anymore. Instead, he was striding confidently through the hallways, smiling at anything and everything he passed and humming a song about apples.

Unrequited feelings hurt. But Butters had learnt that they only did so if you allowed them to.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

**I decided to take a quick break from Kyman so as to write some Carterrs, although the former ship still makes an appearance in this story. In my other stories I tend to write for a love that has been realised, but I think it is important to look reality in the face and acknowledge that sometimes a love doesn't work out. I sort of feel bad for doing it to Carterrs, since although it's not an OTP of mine it's still a ship that I like and find cute. However, I find it hard to write Carterrs anything but one-sided, for, in the show, while Butters has been loyal and obedient and trusting and caring towards Cartman, Cartman on the other hand...Well, bottom line is that he's covered Butters' face in his faecal matter and gotten him beaten up by his parents, so...Yeah. Cartman, you're an asshole and Butters is too good and adorable for you.  
>Sorry that I didn't end this angsty, since I know that some people out there prefer angst. I myself can't seem to bear to be without a happy ending, or at least a semi-happy one. Plus I love Butters too much to put him through pain. And so, being a bit of a Bratters shipper, I imagine that he ends up getting over Cartman by getting with Bradley, and they live happily ever after, the end. But that's just me - you guys can imagine what you will.<br>Thank you for reading this, and I hope you enjoyed doing so as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

**Disclaimer: South Park does not belong to me, but to its creators, Trey Parker and Matt Stone. Hello Kitty does not belong to me, but to her creator, Yuko Shimizu of Sanrio.**


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